


Mornings

by Stressedtoimpress



Series: Heathers [1]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Angst, Bulimia, Character Study, Combined movie and musical canon, Depression, Eating Disorders, Emasculation, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Heavy Angst, High School, Hurt No Comfort, It’s not graphic though, Mentions of Rape, Pre-Canon, Sad, Sad Children, This sounds so dark but I promise it isn’t that bad, end of junior year, its one of these, they all deserved better tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-21 02:10:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stressedtoimpress/pseuds/Stressedtoimpress
Summary: Lots of people don't like mornings, because in the morning the mask you wear is not yet on, and if someone were to find you, they'd see everything you hide away-A character study for the popular heathers kids with combined movie and musical canon. Also it's pre-canon





	Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so Duke and McNamara’s struggles are obvious, but Heather Chandler’s struggles are made eminent in the Remington party in the movie (her struggles aren’t really shown in the musical), and Ram’s are subtly shown in the song Beautiful with the line ‘why did I hit him?’ and Kurt’s are shown with the line in Beautiful ‘Why do I act like such a creep’ and that one scene before the party in the musical. Just wanted to clarify so that people don’t think I’m pulling this stuff out of nowhere.

 

* * *

Alternate title: 7:15

     Heather Chandler stared at herself in the mirror in nothing but a bra and underwear. She remembered the night before, the taste of the cheap alcohol on his lips, the smell of weed on his clothes, the feeling of him running his nails down her back. She remembered it all. But it was okay, he did it because she was beautiful, that was a good thing. She was beautiful, and sexy, and everything most teenage girls aspired to be. That _was_ a good thing, right?  
     

     She ran her fingers down her body and traced her stretch marks, blemishes, and other imperfections. She didn't feel beautiful, nor did she feel sexy; she felt gross. She wanted to climb back in bed and skip school for a week, but of course, that wasn’t an option. She looked over at her clock, the red block numbers read 7:15 am.

    She sighed as she got dressed; school was starting soon. She put on her blazer and tied her hair back with her scrunchie. She looked at herself in the mirror one more time and took a deep breath, took a moment to reorient herself, and then put on a confident look and stood up straight. She would have to hurry if she was still going to give Heather McNamara a ride.

                                                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~    

     Heather Duke started at the number on the scale, 102. It was still too much, she was still too fat. She would have to work harder if she wanted to be thin, maybe then people would like her just as much as Heather Chandler. To be liked was all she wanted, and this was the most efficient way to achieve it.

     She looked in the mirror and removed her shirt; she could see her ribs. She tried sucking her stomach in. Better, but still not enough. She looked at the clock, 7:15. She had to leave soon, there wasn't enough time to get rid of her breakfast; she would have to do it at school.

    She had to do this, if she didn’t Heather Chandler would hate her more, she always makes fun of fat kids. She glanced at the scale one more time, sighed, took a few laxatives for good measure, put her shirt back on, threw a blazer on over it, grabbed the keys to her jeep, and headed out the door to go to school. Just another day of being popular and ‘loved by the whole school’. Another day, another dollar.

                                                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Heather McNamara hit the snooze button on her work clock for the fourth time and stared at the ceiling. Was it even worth it? What was the point of even getting out of bed anymore? It’s not the like other Heathers would care if she came to school or not, especially not Heather Duke. 

     She glanced at the clock, 7:15. She had to get up soon or else her parents would yell at her; it didn’t help that her mom was probably hungover either. She took a deep breath, mustered up all her energy, and reluctantly sat up. Well, the hardest part was out of the way, now it was time to get dressed.

     She got up and pulled off the blazer she was already wearing, not having bothered to change the night before. She reached her hand into her closet and blindly grabbed another one and then sloppily pulled it on, not even caring to button it, Hopefully people wouldn’t realize she was wearing the same shirt, skirt, and stockings. She slipped on her shoes and walked out the door before remembering that she forgot to brush her hair. Oh well, she had one in her locker, she could do it at school, she needed to be quick if she was still going to catch a ride from Heather Chandler.

                                                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     Ram carefully unwrapped the bandage around his hand and winced to see that it still hadn’t scabbed over. Why did he have to be this way? In complete honesty, he felt bad for the poor kid. Yeah, he had made Ram mildly annoyed, but he hadn’t deserved that. Why did he have to hit the smaller kid?

     For a split second he considered apoplogizing, but he quickly shook the thought out of his head. Apologizing would make him weak, and he wasn’t weak. Boys weren’t supposed to be weak. Boys were supposed to be tough and not show emotion. He glanced at the clock, 7:15. It was already time for school.

     He wrapped a new bandage around his hand. It hurt, physically and mentally, but if someone asked then at least he can say he won a fight. He didn’t need to give Heather McNamara a ride today, so he was free to leave for school whenever he wanted. He proceeded to put on his varsity jacket and get in his car to start the ever so long day at school.

                                                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Kurt smiled as he recounted the dream he’d had last night about Heather McNamara before shaking his head in disgust. Why did he have to be this way? He honestly disgusted himself sometimes; scratch that, often. God, he’s  such a creep.

    He glanced at the clock, 7:15. That meant he had to leave now. He walked out into the kitchen to be greeted by his dad. His dad asked him if he had a girlfriend yet, and as usual, he replied with no. His father gave him a hard shove insisting that ‘only real men have girlfriends’. His father grabbed his proceeded to ask him if he was a sissy.

     Kurt tried bringing up that he was the quarterback the football team, but that wasn’t enough. He never seemed to be enough of a man for his father. Eventually he had to say that he was for his father to let go of him. He broke free from his father and fell to the ground, and his father laughed and left the room. Kurt just groaned and left for school. He honestly was happy Heather McNamara was getting a ride from someone else but him

                                                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

     Veronica walked into the lunchroom to be greeted by what she was everyday. The heathers gossiping at their lunch table and putting down the unpopular kids, Kurt making sexual remarks at the heathers, and Ram joining Kurt in that when he wasn’t threatening some nerd.

     She sighed as she added food to her lunch tray. It was like this day in and day out. She just didn’t understand how people could act like that, yet still be so confident and sure of themselves. They have everything, why do they have to take more from other people?

     She sat down at a table with Martha and Betty Finn, two of the most compassionate and sweet people she knew. The Heathers and Kurt and Ram used to be like when they were kids. In fact, Martha even recalls being friends with a few of them. Their lives only seemed to get better from there, so how did they themselves get worse? She could never understand them.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sitting here like “how do I make Ram and Duke’s part of this story longer” and am just straining my brain for ways to say the same thing differently whilst watching Voltron. Fun times.


End file.
